


Golden Age Reigns

by MonkeyMindScream



Series: dodged one bullet (got hit by another) [1]
Category: Super Robot Monkey Team Hyperforce Go!
Genre: Al and Cap basically co-dad the monkeys despite not actively being in a relationship, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence (mmmostly), Multi, the monkeys bicker and tease each other like siblings despite not viewing each other as such
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:21:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25602004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonkeyMindScream/pseuds/MonkeyMindScream
Summary: Season 0Captain Shuggazoom - instead of rushing off to save the city - stays with the Alchemist as he shuts down the Netherworld gate, and manages to stop Mandarin before he can make it malfunction. With no need to erase their memories, the Monkey Team grows up remembering their creator and helping the Captain defend the city.Misadventures are practically a guarantee at this point.
Relationships: Antauri/Mandarin, Nova/Otto, SPRX-77/Gibson
Series: dodged one bullet (got hit by another) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1899439
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Golden Age Reigns

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off an ask I got on tumblr. The doc I started planning this in is literally titled "oh god I'm back on my bullshit boys."
> 
> Trying my hand at some rendered-impossible-by-canon monkey ships this time around, if only just to mix things up a little from Questionable. So no Spova here folks, sorry to any hardcore shippers in the audience. Also some Mantauri, because this is MY self-indulgent AU fic and-
> 
> Now, some of you might be saying, "MindScream, if you want to 'mix things up,' why are you writing ANOTHER fic that prominently features Krinkle? Don't we get enough of him in Questionable?"
> 
> Perhaps, but he's SO fun to write.

The backdrop was a swirling, meshing pink. The effect might have been mesmerizing if it weren’t for the hideous abominations bobbing in front of it. “ _Dark Ones_ ,” huh? Clayton would have thought things so ugly would’ve had uglier, more complicated names to match.

The alert on his helmet was blinking, which meant that someone, somewhere, was threatening Shuggazoom again. Which – having just gotten back from putting Dr. Malicious in jail – was just _ever_ so faintly exasperating _._ Not for the first time, Clayton internally lamented how difficult it was to catch a solid five minutes of downtime in his particular profession, but c’est la vie. He was the one that’d chosen his profession in the first place, he supposed. At any rate, he ought to get going. The less time taken to get down there, the less time spent picking up pieces.

His body twitched, as if beginning to follow through on that thought, but he stopped it before it could do more than that. His eyes were still glued to the monstrosities floating in front of him. He looked them over one by one, brow furrowing. Something felt… wrong.

“Impenetrable,” Al had said. How many times had Clayton heard something similar from the villains that managed to capture him? _Those bonds are unbreakable, those bars are unbendable, my new minion is unbeatable. You’ll never escape!_

Guess what? He always escaped. There was a loophole out of everything.

Granted, he considered the Alchemist a cut above the crazies he usually fought, so maybe he was worrying too much. The man lived with six juvenile _monkeys_ , which essentially meant he was living with six spirits of undiluted chaos made flesh. Surely by this point he would have considered every possible safety risk and taken the necessary precautions? If only out of habit?

Clayton adjusted his helmet in his grip so the blinking antenna was less visible. Al was unquestionably one of the most brilliant people he’d ever met, but for as smart as he was there were still moments he would… not _quite_ miscalculate, but something like it. When Al started a project, he threw himself into it entirely. And though he often _would_ foresee potential problems and take proper measures to accommodate for them, he’d just as often leave those bridges for crossing when he got to them. _Or_ he’d continue barreling forward with half-formed plans to take a running leap at the gap, regardless of how expansive it was.

Clayton would stay until he was sure the portal had been safely shut down, and then leave right after. The city could take care of itself for just a _few_ minutes, right? Long enough for him to make sure his best friend and the monkeys were safe, at least?

The monkeys, speaking of which, were all huddled together at his feet, staring into the portal with varying shades of discomfort and terror. It seemed like a bad omen to Clayton, honestly. Weren’t animals supposedly more attuned to bad mojo or whatever? What did it say about this entire situation that it had them all clinging to each other and practically shaking?

Well. Not _all_ of them. Mandarin stood apart from the rest, staring directly into the portal. If Clayton didn’t know any better, he’d say he looked intrigued.

What a little weirdo.

“Come away from the gate, Mandarin,” the Alchemist began gently, “I’m going to shut it down now.”

Mandarin apparently didn’t care one singular bit about that, because no sooner had the Alchemist finished talking and he went to leap on top of it.

“Whoa!” Clayton exclaimed, lurching forward and grabbing him before he could actually touch it. Mandarin chattered angrily and squirmed in his grip, which to be fair was normal. Mandarin had never been particularly _cuddly_ , even on a good day. The only person he didn’t actively try to escape from (or try to _bite_ , as he was attempting now) was the Alchemist.

“C’mon Mandarin,” Clayton said, trying to keep his grip without squeezing or hurting him, “Al said paws off, he’s shutting it down.”

“Easy, Mandarin,” the Alchemist soothed, now swiftly working to turn off the portal. “The Captain will put you down in a moment.”

Mandarin’s struggling came to a staggering stop, and he took to sulking in its place.

Clayton sighed quietly, sending the Alchemist a relieved look. He flipped Mandarin right-side up again, as his squirming and Clayton’s persistence to keep hold of him had somehow resulted in him being turned almost completely upside down. Mandarin didn’t fight against it, but threw him a dirty look before resolutely looking away. Clayton rolled his eyes. _You’re lucky you’re cute when you pout, Fuzzball. I don’t know how anyone could put up with you otherwise._

There was a whirring as the machine began to power down, and Clayton’s eyes were instinctively drawn to the source. Was it his imagination, or did the monsters inside look… _meaner_ , somehow? The pile of monkeys at his feet pressed still closer, at any rate.

There was a tiny orange creature at the front of the pack, with a single eye and a mouth that reminded Clayton of an angler fish. At first he thought it was staring straight at him, but after a second’s consideration, he realized it was actually staring at _Mandarin_.

Something about its look gave Clayton the willies. He sent a glare back its way and protectively held Mandarin a little tighter to his chest, angling him away from its view slightly. (He wouldn’t realize until later, but Mandarin offered no complaint at this.)

The portal fizzled off, removing the monsters from view, and sank back into the floor. The tenseness in everyone’s shoulders spontaneously loosened.

“ _So_ ,” Clayton began cheerfully, turning to face the Alchemist still at the portal’s controls, “think you could do me a favor and _not_ turn that thing on when I’m not here? At least not with an audience?” His eyes flicked meaningfully down to Mandarin, still in his arms, and the rest of the monkeys still huddled together on the floor.

The Alchemist nodded, perhaps a bit sheepishly. “That seems reasonable, I suppose.”

He walked over to where Clayton stood, outstretching his arms, and Clayton promptly passed him Mandarin.

“I appreciate it,” Clayton said, relieved. Arms now free, he bent down to reclaim his helmet (he’d let it clatter to the ground when he’d dove to grab Mandarin), and replaced it on his head. “Well, not that this hasn’t been a _blast,_ but really ought to get going. Duty calls and everything.”

He heard the Alchemist call “good luck” to him as he sped out of the lab, followed by his fading voice trying to playfully soothe his still-sulking eldest.


End file.
